Harry Potter and the HalfBlood Saiyan
by compulsivereader
Summary: Complete rewrite of The Escape, including plot changes. HPxDBZ crossoverHPxHG GxV RWxLL? GWxNL? RLxNT
1. The Hood Ornament

Splash.

Harry jolted out of his doze, nervously scanning the area for his overly-large uncle, expecting the man to come marching out to berate him for getting water on his brand new hood ornament while watering Petunia's gardens. Not seeing him anywhere, Harry allowed his heart rate to return to normal.

'Focus, Harry, Focus. I've only been back two days and already that walrus beginning the abuse. Let's not give him another reason for it shall we?'

He took a moment to look at Vernon's new prize possession, the hood ornament that Petunia had gotten him for his birthday a few months ago. He had to admit, it wasn't all that flashy or really all that attractive, but there was something about it that just had an allure. Shrugging, he returned to his work.

AN: Ok yeah, very short but it's a start. I'm re-writing The Escape into this story because when I re-read it I wanted to hurl my computer out a window due to the horrifically elementary writing style and plot development. Chapters will be short (longer than this!), but hopefully they will come quickly D


	2. R&R

In his room that night, Harry collapsed on the pile of wood that his relatives called his bed. He was nursing a few fresh injuries on top of the exhaustion that came with seven hours of yard work in the blistering sun. He hadn't even known there _was_ seven hours' worth of jobs in that yard, but Petunia, being her meticulous self had found it. He vainly attempted to find a comfortable position around the lumps in the mattress, flinching when a particularly hard one jabbed him in the brand new bruise on his back.

'Vernon's getting more violent these days,' he thought, 'I can't believe he still thinks that _I_ nearly killed Dudley last year.'

As he stumbled across that train of thought, it jumped the tracks into another thought process he'd been avoiding ever since he returned. A tear rolled down his cheek.

"Damn it Harry, you are _not_ going to think about that… Now go to sleep. You have to be up at dawn to get ready for the trip."

When he was finished talking to himself, Harry rolled over attempted to follow his own instructions, falling into a fitful doze that left him feeling groggy in the morning.

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Harry sighed hugely as he sat in the back of his Uncle's new Aston Martin Coupe, though, crammed as he was between the door and his massive cousin, it still wasn't a very large sigh. Still struggling with the reason for the trip, his mind started wandering to the day before when he found out about it.

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"What?!"

"You heard me, boy. We're going to Marge's tomorrow because she's getting married. I don't exactly agree with the man, but he makes my sister happy, so we're going to help fill out the bride's section of the church."

"But why do _I_ have to go?"

"Because we're not going to let you stay with Ms. Figg now that we know of her affiliation with... _your kind_," he told the shocked young man with a hideous sneer. "You know that we don't trust you to stay here by yourself, and as that bumbling old man won't take you back until August, we have no place to put you. So you're coming along, so I can keep my eye on you. One false move from you and you'll wish you'd never been born," Vernon eyed him threateningly.

Harry wasn't about to take any more of this, so he quickly shouted back, "Oh yeah? What if I told my godfa… ther…" He trailed off, lost in thought and regret, blinking furiously to hold back his tears.

Vernon flinched horribly at the thought, but then something registered in his tiny little brain. "What was that Potter? Are those tears in your eyes? They are!" The man smiled like it was Christmas as he began his verbal attack. "Now what's caused those eh? Did something happen to this famous murderer we've heard so much about? Get himself arrested? Killed? Get his soul sucked out by those dementoids?" Harry gave him a murderous glance: all Vernon needed.

"I'll take that as a yes. Now about that look-"

Before Harry could react, his uncle had grabbed a handful of his hair, bending him down to his level, positively growling the threat, "Never look at me with disrespect. It's not nice."

With that, Vernon slammed his beefy fist into Harry's side, making the boy fall to the ground in pain, the only thing holding him up being the hair in his uncle's fist.

"Now since we'll be in a wedding in two days, I can't hurt you _too _badly. At least not where it can be seen."

And so began one of the worst beatings of Harry's young life.

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The throbbing in Harry's side was beginning to subside, but every now and then he's shift his weight, sending a new bolt of pain through his body. He knew he'd be fine for now, but he worried about when they returned to Privet Drive. Now that Vernon knew the Sirius wasn't going to come for his head if Harry was abused, he knew he might not survive the beatings his Uncle had promised. He wouldn't use magic, not after what happened last year, unless he absolutely had to. Fudge couldn't have any more dirt on him, even if it was a legitimate life/death situation.

His only real hope was that he couldn't write the Order because he had to leave Hedwig with Ms. Figg, he just hoped that they'd get the idea soon; he hadn't seen any of their members around Privet Drive though, so he couldn't be sure that they were watching him. With another sigh, he resigned himself to waiting on the Order and hoping for the best.

Not his idea of a good plan.

AN: Yeah here ya go, a little background. Action coming in Chapter 3! And thanks to all of you who still follow what I write, even though it's been so long! You inspire me.


	3. Hey Mister!

The ride to Marge's wasn't a very long one, only two hours or so; at least it should have been.

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Harry tried to ignore the constant mutterings of his uncle as he complained about the price of gas these days and kept a running commentary on the state of teenagers today and their lack of driving ability. Attempting to block out the unrelenting diatribe, Harry closed his eyes and tried to recall the conversation he and Hermione had shared on the Hogwarts Express; it seemed like so long ago. Before he knew it, his uncle's bleating faded into the background and he was drifting back to his last day of happiness until he returned to his friends.

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"_So muggles have magic too?"_

"_Not exactly Harry. ­ Democritus Leibniz theorizes that magic is simply the ability to control the fundamental life force that drives the universe. All living things have this force in them, it's the thing that holds our molecules together and such." Hermione cut Harry off before he could interject his confusion into her lecture. "I know, muggles still believe in quarks and gluons and such, but no one's ever seen one have they? Never proved they were there! Wizards have gone farther in the field of microphysics than you'd think, Harry."_

"_So a squib is just someone who, for some reason or another, can't control this life force like their parents can? Wait… Could a non-magical person gain control over this force? Like through some sort of… I dunno… A workout of some sort?"_

"_Well, there have been limited trials of that sort, and there has been some margin of success, but the training it would take was disproportionate to the amount of control gained- it was inhuman, the things the test subjects had to endure… And they never got past basic control of what we would call 'raw magic,' a sort of pure destructive energy…"_

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"GET OUT OF THE BLOODY ROAD YOU CHINK BASTARD!!"

The volume of Vernon's epithet was only surpassed by the squealing of the tires as he slammed the brake as far down as it would go. Harry found himself plastered on the back of his uncle's seat before he could even start to wake up.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he peered around the beefy man ahead of him to see a small oriental boy standing in front of the car, calm as you please, as if a speeding car hadn't almost made him crow-chow. The boy looked upon Vernon's hood ornament with glee, a faint gleam coming to his eye that looked like he had just gotten the best Christmas present ever. While the boy was observing the decoration, Harry began to take in strange lad's appearance more actively. He couldn't have been more than eight, maybe nine on a good day. A shock of black hair stood upon the boy's head in such a way that it made Harry wonder if his would look like that if he grew it out. He looked fit, especially for his age, although he still had the smallest bit of baby fat that softened his features, and a wide smile that any dentist would be proud of.

The boy ran around to Vernon's window and started tapping on it excitedly. Now, Vernon was not usually one to take time to talk to 'the riffraff,' but this kid had pissed him off.

"What the devil are you doing, boy!? You almost dented my hood!" Of course Vernon didn't care what would have happened to the child, just his new car. The boy spoke very excitedly in English, and while his grammar was good, it was obvious that it was not his first language.

"Sir, I must ask to take your hood ornament. What do you want for it?"

Vernon began to laugh in a deep, sneering chuckle. "Listen you little gook, why don't you run back to your rice patty before you get hurt playing on the freeway, ok?" He rolled up his window and drove off.

He tried to, at least.

"What the devil is wrong with the car?" Vernon tried everything from turning it off and on, going through the gears, listening closely to the engine. Everything was fine, they just weren't moving.

"Uh… Uncle Vernon…"

"WHAT, POTTER?" Vernon twisted in his seat to glare at his nephew, spittle flying from his lips as he screamed the teen's name. Seeing Harry pointing out the rear window, he twisted farther around and saw the young boy behind the car, holding it in place.

"A few things, sir. I'm not Chinese, nor am I Vietnamese or Korean; I am Japanese. And you should not use racist comments like that. You are sure to offend somebody who is not as forgiving as my family. Now, usually, we try to compensate to the owners when we take one, but one way or another we _are_ getting that dragonball."

Wondering who this 'we' was, Vernon swiveled around in his seat, only to see three more people surrounding the car.

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AN: Ahh, now we get to the good stuff. Sorry if anyone was offended by the slurs, I really don't think like that, I just have a really good Chinese friend who thinks they're funny. BTW, as you can probably tell by the writing, I'm looking for a good beta, so if you want to do it, lemme know! Read & Review please!


	4. Dark

As Vernon turned away from the boy, he cringed, noticing three more people surrounding his car: another boy the age of the first with long purple hair, an young man, obviously the black-haired youth's older relative, maybe in his late teens, and a woman with light blue hair holding a circular beeping device. All hailed from the Orient, and none looked very happy.

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Openly gaping in awe, Harry marveled at the youth's strength. He didn't know much about physics and forces and such, but he did know that no person, let alone kid, should be able to hold a car off the ground like he clearly was.

"Why do you want the ornament so badly?" Harry called. "It's pretty, sure, but not anything to get so worked up over!"

"Shut up, Boy!" Came the angry rejoinder from the front seat. The obese man turned to face the newcomers. "Well?!"

The tall young man glared at Vernon. "We need that Dragonball. We're not afraid to use force, we'd just rather not. We're kinda on a tight schedule, now what's it gonna be?"

Frustrated with his obstinate uncle, Harry shouted, "Uncle Vernon, just give them the bloody hood ornament!" However, the fat man had taken all that he could stand from those who disagreed with him and threw open the door, climbing out of the car to Harry's door and ripped it open, dragging the poor boy out by the scruff of his neck and raising the other arm to take out his anger. The fist connected and Harry knew no more.

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AN: Ok, so this is short and bleh. I'm out of town and I'm sick, I'll get back to work when I get home hopefully. Happy Holidays!


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